You're The Only One Who Mattered
by Sci-fi Christian
Summary: "You've always counted, and I've always trusted you." A collection of one-shots of our favorite couple! Rated K to M. Will take Prompts! (First Time writing in this fandom!)
1. Nobody Takes My Heart (T)

**I have never, I repeat, never expected that I would write in this fandom, but this one-shot just wouldn't leave me alone, and when it was done, I wasn't too sure about it. I hope that you all enjoy it anyway!**

 **THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT! IT MEANS ALOT!**

 **Please remember to review at the end! :)**

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She held the scalpel delicately in her hand, and slowly cut a perfect straight line in the corpse's body. It was a procedure she had done many times, and this time was no different, so why was she nervous?

Finishing the line, she straightened, and slowly turned her head around. She knew why. Since the return of Moriarty, Sherlock had been absent from the lab.

From her.

Granted, she knew that he was staying away because, according to John, he still considered Molly a dear friend, and didn't want her involved, but she knew the truth.

She knew that he stayed away to protect her. To protect them.

She shook her head, and placed her hands on the table next to the corpse. It had been near on a week since he had come to her, and she missed him.

She shouldn't. She couldn't control him, and voicing how she felt would not be wise, especially when he was doing everything to protect her.

She closed her eyes as she heard the door to the autopsy open, and tried to focus on her work. She felt the hairs on her the back of her neck stand up, and slowly she swallowed, and turned around.

His face remained stoic as he gazed at her, but his eyes…

His eyes absorbed everything about her, as if he hadn't seen her in a year, not just a week. "Dr. Hooper," He began, speaking in a low tone, causing shivers to run through her body at the sound of her name on his deep baritone voice.

"Mr. Holmes," She returned, hating that her voice sounded breathless.

He moved passed her with a curt nod, and tilted his head to the side, as his hands locked behind him, as he walked on.

She bowed her head, and placed the scalpel on the table, before taking off her gloves, and tossed them in the trash.

She followed him to the back of the lab, and walked passed him as he held open the door for her to enter, before following her.

As soon as the door closed behind them, he reached for her, and she fell into his arms.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, holding her close.

She shook her head, and tightened her hold around his neck, as her toes hurt from standing up on them to reach him. "It's okay. I understand." She returned in a low tone.

He groaned, and pulled back, and searched her eyes. "I would have come sooner." He began, not knowing the words to say.

She smiled, and touched his face with her right hand, loving the strong features of his face. "Sherlock, I understand." She returned, firmly.

He sighed, and leaned in her hand. "John told me how you've been working around the clock." He stated, in a scolding tone.

She shook her head, and placed both hands on his chest. "Don't start scolding me, William Sherlock." She remarked, her brown eyes flashing. "You need all the help you can get, and granted I can't do much in this lab, but at least…" She began, moving away from him, throwing her arms out, before he shook his head, and turned her face him.

"I didn't say you couldn't, Molly." He said, bending his head to gaze into her eyes. "Besides, you've helped me more than anybody." He continued, a smirk playing on his lips. "Thanks to you, the Faux Moriarty will soon be apprehended." He added with pride.

She lowered her eyes as she placed her hands on his chest once again. "And then?" She asked, daring to hope.

He smiled, and reached up with both hands to caress her face. "And then, we no longer hide in the shadows." He whispered, in a low baritone which sent shivers through her body.

She smiled, and bowed her head to touch her forehead to his chest for a brief moment before lifting it to gaze into his now blue eyes. She wanted to tell him that she didn't care about hiding in the shadows because it wasn't anyone's business but their own about their personal life, but for the sake of their protection, they needed to keep their newfound love a secret.

He smiled, and drew her closer to him, and bent his head. With a breath of air between them, he brushed his lips over hers, and slowly stepped back.

She reached for his hand, and held it in hers. "Be careful out there, Sherlock." She replied, softly, her emotions showing in her eyes and voice.

He smiled, and stepped closer to her once again, this time, his lips descended on hers with a force of a promise that he would come back to her, and when he did everything would be alright.

 **~XXX~**

Her eyes blinked a few times as she focused on the area around her, and she inhaled deeply, struggling against the ropes that had her hands tied behind her.

"Molly, Molly, Molly,"

She stilled her movements, and slowly lifted her head to see a man she thought was long dead, but clearly he wasn't. "Jim?" She whispered, in a low tone.

He smiled, and stepped towards her, kneeling down after he came within a foot of her. "The very same." He remarked, smiling devilishly.

She swallowed, and shook her head. "How?" She asked, as he tilted his head to the side.

"Your precious boyfriend isn't the only one who can fake a death, you know." He answered, with a smile on his face.

She closed her eyes, and bowed her head. "What do you want with me?" She asked, shaking her head, her voice weak, and yet filled with strength.

He smirked, and reached forward to brush his fingers over her cheek, before settling on the chain around her neck. "Your fiancée of course," He whispered, backing away from her.

She swallowed, and closed her eyes.

How did he know?

 **~XXX~**

Sherlock did everything he could to control his temper, as he listened to Lestrade give details of how the lab was nearly destroyed, and the pathologist, HIS pathologist was nowhere to be found.

He clenched his fists at his sides, and stepped back only to march towards the back office where they had met a few hours before.

He heard footsteps behind him, and he stilled as he placed his hands on the desk. "He took her, John." He stated, his body nearly shaking.

John nodded, and sighed. "I know." He returned, not truly knowing what to say to calm his friend down. "Do you know why?" He asked, causing Sherlock to straighten, and turn around with a dangerous glare in his eyes.

"Because he knows I love her."

 **~XXX~**

Sherlock didn't pay any heed to the calls of hesitance from the others as he walked to the building, he knew she was in.

All his planning, all his careful moves to protect her, had failed, and he wasn't sure why.

All he knew was that she was in danger, and he needed her back. She kept him stable, not like John, who had brought him out of the world of little emotion. She kept him strong, gave him confidence when others didn't believe, and believed in him when others faltered.

She was his strength, his refuge, his everything, and now she was in danger.

It didn't matter.

All that mattered was getting her back, and making sure she was safe in his arms.

 **~XXX~**

Molly coughed as the gas seeped into the room, and she fought to keep her eyes open.

"Sherlock…" She whispered, falling to her side. "Sherlock…"

 **~XXX~**

Sherlock lowered the gun, and glared at the body in front of him, knowing that this wasn't the end.

"Oh, Sherlock, you have changed, since last we met."

He stiffened his back, and slowly turned around, a cold smirk placed on his face. "You are not Moriarty." He stated, shaking his head.

Moriarty shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe I am, maybe I'm not." He stated, stepping closer.

Sherlock smirked, and moved his eyes around. "Where is she?" He asked, nonchalantly.

Moriarty smirked, and moved his eyes around before focusing on Sherlock. "If you mean your little fiancée, then…" He began, pausing to sigh. "You know, I always wondered, how you faked your death, but then I saw you with her, and it hit me. She helped you." He stated, clapping his hands together.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, and stepped closer, trying to keep his head in the game. "Where is she?" He asked again.

Moriarty chuckled, and moved around the room. "She's around." He stated, waving his arms around. "In fact, I would say that she's…asleep right about now." He added, with a chuckle.

Sherlock, understanding what the criminal meant, swallowed, and tried to control his temper, but images of Molly hurt or dying filled his mind, and though he tried to control it, he couldn't stop. "If you've hurt her…"

Moriarty smiled, and turned his head to the side. "Do you want to know how I figured it out?" He asked, stepping towards Sherlock. "Your dear brother was very helpful with the CCTV cameras." He whispered, watching Sherlock's jaw clench. "Besides, you didn't really think I overlooked dear Molly the first time, did you?" He asked, watching his adversary carefully. "She really is a wonderful, plain girl, isn't she?" He mocked, though he sounded sincere.

Sherlock had enough. With one quick movement, he lifted his gun, and pulled the trigger, shooting Moriarty in the shoulder, smirking as Moriarty fell to the ground. "She isn't plain." He stated, kicking Moriarty in the head, knocking him out.

Lifting his head, he ran.

 **~XXX~**

Molly thought for a moment that she was hallucinating as her eyes flickered opened and found him sitting beside her.

"Sherlock?" She croaked out.

Sherlock nodded, and tentatively placed his left hand on her hands. "You're alright." He remarked, stiffly. "You inhaled just a small amount of Carbon Monoxide, not enough to kill, but enough to put you asleep." He added, watching her nod.

"What about Moriarty?" She asked, watching him, carefully.

He lowered his eyes, and sighed through his nose. "He's in custody." He answered, after a moment.

She tilted her head to the side, and swallowed. "You didn't kill him?" She asked, softly.

He shook his head. "No, though I wanted to." He stated, watching her smile.

"I guess our cover is blown, isn't it?" She asked, lowering her eyes to his hand, rubbing circles over hers.

He smiled, and nodded. "It was unavoidable." He stated, shaking his head.

She smiled, and nodded. "Sherlock," She whispered, lifting her eyes to gaze into his. "Thank you, for saving me."

He smiled, and leaned forward, within a hair's breathe of her lips. "Nobody takes my heart, except you Molly Hooper." He whispered, huskily, sending shivers through her body.

She smiled, and opened her mouth to receive his as he kissed her with a loving touch. "Just wait until I get out of this bed…" She whispered, hearing him chuckle in the deep baritone.

"I'm looking forward to it, Dr. Hooper." He remarked, hearing her laugh with a loving sound.

And he was right, nobody takes Sherlock's heart unless that person is a certain pathologist, besides they can't take it once it's been given, and he certainly had given her his heart, as she did hers.

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 **Please be kind!**

 **Okay, I have avoided writing in this fandom, because I always believed that I could not do Sherlock justice, but I believe I did okay with him in this. I hope you agree...**

 **Also, this will be a collection of one-shots, so I will take requests, prompts, anything you care to send me regarding these two! I will try to do them justice!**

 **Looking forward to hearing from you all!**

 **Until Next Time...**


	2. One Dance (K)

_I haven't updated this story, because well, I just kept getting writer's block when it came to Sherlock and Molly, but The Abdominable Bride helped with that!_

 _I hope you all enjoy this little one-shot! If you have any requests, feel free to send them in! I have a few already, and I'm working to get them up and going!_

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 _Description: Sherlock catches Molly dancing. (Came from a Writing prompt from Pintrest!)_

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" _You could have made it, Molly."_

They always said that. Every time she visited her mother, she always heard it. Never mind that she had moved on, and had become a doctor, and a respectable job.

Never mind that she was happy.

Her family always wanted to see her up there, on stage, performing with the London Orchestra, with the ballet troupe.

She sighed, and turned on the CD player to her classical cd. Normally, the morgue was quiet while she worked, with the exception of him, but he wasn't here today, and she needed some relief.

Today had been torture. Her mother and her mother's sister had visited her, and had dragged up her talents, and her regrets, if she had any.

Molly shook her head, and listened as the song that made her feel alive came on. It was a soft melodic song with two powerful singers: Andrea Bocelli and Celine Dion. The song held special memories for her as a child, and now, it helped her get through the rough days.

She began to roll her shoulders, and her let her head roll back, only to stop when she straightened.

It was eight in the afternoon, and true, she was purposely working late, she knew no one was here, and she was alone.

Moving to the opened spot of the room, she lifted her arms outward, and began to sway as the music began to lift her up.

She twirled around, letting her white lab coat twirl behind her like a robe, as she closed her eyes, and let the music echo around her. She lifted up on her toes, and wished she had her pointe shoes on, but made due with the loafers she had on.

She lifted her arms, and began to move in elegant moves that made her feel and look as if she was one with the music.

Extending her arms, she began to twirl in a pirouette, and continued as she did a double, and landed with such grace anyone would have mistaken her for a professional.

A smile touched her face as she continued to feel the music, and with ease, she moved around the lab, careful of everything around her. She twirled, and lifted her left leg in a soft bend behind her back, as her back arched with her arms extended beside her.

She hadn't felt this free in so long, and so relaxed. She straightened, and let out a laugh, as she continued to move to the soft melodic tunes of The Prayer, and smiled as she performed a double pirouette once again, and felt her hair fly around her as her pony tail twirled.

She was so lost in the music, she didn't hear the door open, or even see she had company until she turned in a graceful three step turn, and landed against the solid body of a tall firm chest.

She felt arms go around her, steadying her, letting her know that she wouldn't fall.

Lifting her eyes, she felt her cheeks flush as she caught his blue-green eyes staring at her reddened face.

"Sherlock…" She began, panting as the dancing had caused her to lose her breathe. "I…didn't…" She continued, but words seemed to fail her at the moment.

Sherlock hummed, and pushed her a little ways away, but not too far from him, and dropped his arms to his chest. "So it would appear." He finished for her, knowing she didn't know anyone was here.

She dropped her eyes, and turned to cut her music off. "Was there something you needed?" She asked, not knowing what she could say to get out of this embarrassment. Only her family knew of her dancing background, no one else.

Not even her best friend.

No one.

At least until Sherlock stepped into the morgue.

Sherlock cleared his throat, and clasped his hands behind his back, his face remaining stoic. "I came to see if you had a heart I could use." He remarked, coldly.

Molly nodded her head, and turned to face the cadaver on the table. "There should be one in the fridge." She returned, her voice shaking, slightly.

He tilted his head to the side, and stepped towards her. "Why hide it?" He asked, causing her to lift her head. "Why do you hide the talent you possess?" He asked, watching her eyes widen for a moment.

She shook her head, and moved towards the back. "I don't want to discuss it." She answered, opening the fridge, and pulled out a heart she had put aside in case he needed one.

Closing her eyes, she rushed towards him, and thrusted the heart into his hands, and turned back to her work. "There's your heart." She stated, coldly, a little too coldly than she had preferred, but him asking her that question drug up too many memories, some painful.

Sherlock studied her for a moment, and sighed, lowly. "Thank you, Molly." He responded, before walking out of the morgue, but not before turning to look at her one last time.

 **~XXX~**

Molly shook her head as she gazed at the invitation, a little too formal, and should have been a surprise, but truthfully, nothing surprised her about Sherlock.

 _Your presence is requested at 221B Bakerstreet at precisely 6 this afternoon. Please be prompt._

 _Sherlock_

She smiled, and lowered her hands to her desk. What was that man up to now?

Shaking her head, she pushed away from her desk, and grabbed her coat from the rack, and slipped it on, pulling her long ponytail out, and let it swing free.

She turned her eyes to look at the large clock on the wall, and smiled when the big hand hit the six, and the small hand was on the five.

She had thirty minutes to get from here to Sherlock's place and no time to change.

Her shoulders began to sag as she realized how hung onto hope. Hope that this was a social call, and not something else.

Who was she kidding? With Sherlock, it was going to be something else.

The long walk to the curb to hail a cab unnerved her, and caused her think that something was wrong.

Why else would he want her to come by?

 **~XXX~**

The door opened to the apartment, and she couldn't help but smile graciously towards Mrs. Hudson, who nodded with a kind smile, before walking passed her out the door.

Molly lifted her eyes towards the stairs, and placed her hands in her jacket pockets, and slowly began her ascent up the stairs towards his apartment.

She stopped at the landing, and thought she could hear soft music playing, music that made her heart pound ever so loudly in her chest.

Reaching for the door knob, she pushed it open, and gasped as she saw him standing in front of the window, playing the violin in a manner that made her warm at the sight.

As the bow pulled and pushed across the strings, he brought the instrument to life, and it made her smile.

She moved toward him, and watched as he slowly turned to face her an unknown look of warmth filling his eyes.

He came to the end of the stanza, and let the last note play out before letting the bow separate from his beautiful violin.

"That was beautiful." She whispered, her voice catching in her throat as tears filled her eyes.

He smiled, and bowed his head. "I've always held such a high regard for the classics." He began, turning to place his violin on his desk.

"Why hide your talent?" She asked, impulsively.

He smirked, and turned around. "Probably for the same reason you hide yours, Molly Hooper." He answered, placing his hands in the pockets of his dressing gown.

She felt a blush tinge her cheeks, and she bowed her head. "I am sorry I snapped at you earlier." She remarked, after a moment.

He shrugged his shoulders as if it meant nothing or that he forgot about that moment, which was impossible as he remembered everything, and stepped closer towards her. "You dance beautifully, Molly." He whispered, his voice deepening as he did so, making her shiver. "How old were you?" He asked, his blue-green eyes holding hers.

She swallowed, unable to move her eyes from his. "I…I started taking lessons when I was five, an…an…and stopped when I entered graduate school." She answered after a moment.

He hummed as if to take in her answer, and just continued to stand there, gazing into her eyes. "Wise decision," He remarked, pursing his lips together, and lifted his eyes over her head, before nodding his head.

She tilted her head to the side. "Pardon?" She asked, starting to shake her head.

He inhaled deeply, and nodded his head once more. "Wise decision to pursue the academic field instead of ballet." He explained in a rushed tone.

She held back her smirk, and folded her arms over her chest. "Oh, and why was that? Pray tell…" She asked, watching him, carefully.

He lowered his eyes to focus on hers, and began his hurried speech. "Well, clearly, because you enhance the medical community, with your knowledge, and if you weren't in this field, then I would have to put up with Anderson." He stated, with a small grimace on his face as he said the other man's name.

Molly bit back a smile, and finally lowered her head, breaking the connection she had with him for the moment. "Yes, that would be extremely terrible for a man of your caliber." She returned, nodding her head with a small smile on her face.

He smirked, and tilted his head to the side. "Why, Molly Hooper, are you teasing me?" He asked, watching a small blush tinge her cheeks, and he thought that it was a beautiful shade on her.

She shrugged her shoulders, and smiled with a hint of mystery behind her eyes.

He smiled, and reached forward with his right hand in a tender movement, and pushed a strand of her brown hair from her face, which had fallen from her usually neat ponytail, but today she had worn it halfway down, making him smile at the way it complimented her round face and button nose.

"Why did you ask me here?" She asked, her voice sounding breathless at his tender act.

He lowered his arm, and she watched as he swallowed, and moved a step back. "Molly Hooper, would," He began, pausing to clear his throat, clearly nervous from the question he had to ask. "Would you do me the honor of dancing for me?" He asked, watching her brow furrow, as slight fear shown in her eyes. "Please, Molly," He added, as she stood, frozen in her position.

Her eyes caught his, and she saw the sincerity in his eyes. "There's no music." She whispered, her voice nearly choking in her throat.

He smirked, and reached behind him to pick up his violin. "Yes, there is." He remarked, watching her eyes widen as he lifted the violin to her line of sight.

She opened her mouth to protest, but he shook his head.

"Please, Molly," He repeated, sincerity leaking into his words.

Bowing her head, she dropped her arms to her side, and slipped off her purse and jacket, laying them on the couch a few feet away.

Turning back to face him, she lifted her eyes to his, and saw the softness she rarely saw in his eyes. "Promise…" She began, leaving her words hanging in the air.

He smiled, tenderly, something rare for him, but not so with her, she had come to realize, and bowed his head. The promise of no ridicule answered with the motion.

Lifting the violin, he placed it underneath his chin, and lifted his bow in a beautiful fluid motion. Her breathe caught in her throat as she became enraptured at the sight of his graceful movements, and just as quickly her breathe came and went as he began to play.

Soon, the sight of him playing a melodious instrument with such skill that made her shiver disappeared as the music reached for her, and she began to move.

With grace that none knew she had, she moved around the room, lifting her leg in a graceful form as she turned, and transformed into a pirouette.

She turned and bent her back letting her hair touch the floor behind her, with her arms lifted up, reaching for the sky. Her eyes were closed, and for a moment she could see herself dancing on a stage with no one there, except him.

The melodious tune filled her soul, and moving her arms to a graceful bow, she tilted her body sideways, letting go of all the frustration of the day in the song.

She felt his eyes on her, but she didn't mind, for the first time in a long time, she just enjoyed the music and let it fill her as if it was meant to be.

She didn't know how long she had been dancing, but it was enough for her to run almost out of breathe, and for her legs to shake, as she ended with a bow to the floor, and gracefully stood up, her chest lifting as she tried to catch her breathe.

Her eyes lifted, and she caught his, and realized his violin was nowhere in his hands, but she didn't have the courage to locate it as he stepped towards her, and she watched as his eyes dilated while gazing into hers.

"A swan," He whispered, his voice going deeper, if that was possible. "You dance like a swan." He added, his voice catching slightly at the end.

She felt a blush tinge her cheeks, and in a moment there was no one but her and him, standing in his flat. "Thank you." She whispered, breathlessly.

He gave a slow nod, and in that moment something changed, though neither spoke of it. They both knew it.

Grasping her face between his hands, he bend his head, and placed his lips, tentatively on hers in a gentle, yet searing kiss that left them both shaking, her even more so.

As she molded into his body, she felt her heart pound, harder, and harder in her chest, and she prayed, silently that he wouldn't hear it.

He lifted his head after a moment, and gazed into her eyes. "Stay with me, Molly." He remarked, deeply.

Those three words filled her heart as she held his eyes, and slowly nodded. She wanted to ask for how long, but the next words stopped her.

"Forever, Molly Hooper," He whispered, caressing her cheek with his left hand. "Stay with me forever." He added, just before his lips lowered to hers once again.

All because of one dance.

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 _Please be kind!_

 _Remember if you have any requests, you may send them, and I'll get to them as soon as I can!_

 _Until Next Time..._


	3. Whisper My Name (M)

**While watching the Sherlock special, I couldn't help, but think of this little diddy, and finally decided to finish it. Though, it didn't turn out exactly the way I had thought, it did turn out pretty well, so I hope you enjoy it!**

 **THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT! IT MEANS THE WORLD TO ME! :)**

 **Please remember to review at the end! :)**

* * *

 **Description: Scene in the Gazebo in the Abominable Bride: Watson asks Sherlock if he has had any sexual encounters, and Sherlock gets lost in his mind palace, remembering a tryst with a certain pathologist. (SLIGHT SPOILERS FOR THE ABOMINABLE BRIDE!)**

 **RATED SLIGHT M**

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"Surely you've had…" Watson asked, watching his friend and colleague with interest.

Sherlock swallowed, knowing what his friend meant. He wanted to smile, but that would give too much away, and he wasn't ready for them to know.

He wasn't ready for them to know about her.

About them.

"Had what?" He asked, looking out the window over Watson's shoulder.

"Impulses." Watson remarked after stuttering.

Sherlock stood up, and closed his eyes. "Oh, dear Lord, how I wish for a confrontation with the bride!" He exclaimed, shaking his head.

Previous days passed through his mind as he recalled how he had discovered with painful remembrance that she was in fact a woman making her place in a man's world, and how their animosity had resulted in a shocking interlude in the mortuary, which led to a long, wonderful, and memorable night at his flat.

He closed his eyes even more, picturing her, and how wonderful she felt against him, pushing against his waist, setting him on fire, hardening his shaft with just a single touch.

A smile touched his lips unconsciously, and his mind wondered for a brief moment.

" _If you had any sense at all, you would know that the bride could not possibly come back from the grave." He nearly shouted, glaring at the pathologist._

 _Hooper crossed 'his' arms over his chest. "I have enough sense to know that someone could have faked it, Holmes." 'He' stated, moving around the table to meet the consultant detective head on._

 _Sherlock narrowed his eyes, and began to take a closer look at the man in front of him. His eyes widened as he lowered his head, and realized with stark lightening that he wasn't a man at all. His heart began to beat faster in his chest, and in one swift movement, he grasped Hooper's face, and kissed him._

 _Hooper gasped for an instant, but then melted into Sherlock's embrace, allowing 'his' arms to encircle the tall man's neck._

 _Sherlock pulled back, and smiled as he gazed into Hooper's glazed filled eyes. "Why did I not see it before?" He asked, shaking his head._

 _Hooper blinked a few times, and let her feminine voice come out. "See what?" She asked, lightly._

 _Sherlock smiled, and touched her mustache. "That you are a woman, a very brilliant woman." He whispered, letting his voice hit a baritone note._

 _Hooper swallowed, and wanted to pull back, but her position wouldn't allow it._

" _What is your first name?" He asked, after a few moments of gazing into her eyes._

" _Molly," She whispered, breathlessly._

 _He smirked, and bent his head. "Pleasure to meet you, Molly Hooper." He whispered, feeling her shiver in his arms at the sound of his voice, just before his lips crashed onto hers once again._

 _She melted into his arms, gasping as he lifted her causing her legs to wrap around his waist. She felt her back hit the stone wall behind her, and she gasped just as he pulled back._

" _Forgive me, Molly Hooper." He whispered, panting as he spoke._

 _She touched his face, and shook her head. "For what?" She asked, searching his eyes._

" _For acting like a pompous fool, I should have seen this sooner." He answered, letting his eyes convey his regret._

 _She shook her head, and smiled. "I won't tell if you won't." She whispered, watching him smile, before his lips captured hers in a powerful, stirring kiss._

 _Their mouths opened as they each accepted an invitation from the other, and allowed their tongues to brush against the others._

 _Sherlock felt her hum and moan, and couldn't stop smiling against her lips. He loved the sound, he realized. He loved hearing her moan, and move her hips over his, trying to make contact with him, but here…in the morgue?_

 _That would not do._

 _Pulling back, he lifted his eyes to hers, and touched her silky smooth face, lightly grazing her button nose. "Not here," He whispered, setting her gently down on her feet. "Bakerstreet, now." He added, backing away, only pausing to grab his cloak and hat._

 _Molly stood against the wall, and tried to catch her breath. Was he serious?_

 _He turned at the door, looking irritated as he waited for her, and she straightened, and quickly rushed to his side, grabbing her coat and hat as well, before following him out the door._

 _The ride back to his flat was long and unnerving. Sherlock reached over, and grasped her hands with his right, and squeezed them with a tender motion._

 _The cab stopped outside his home, and though he wanted to be a gentleman, he couldn't act on it, for it would give her charade away, and that he could not allow._

 _Instead, he marched into the house, trusting her to follow him, and felt his heart pound with relief as he heard her small gait follow him inside._

 _He knew Mrs. Hudson wasn't home, for which he was thankful. He didn't know how he could explain this, but knew he didn't have to._

 _As soon as the door closed, he gathered Molly in his arms, and carried her up the stairs, letting her head rest on his shoulder, and her face nuzzle her neck with a soft kiss at the base._

 _He carried her to the bedroom, and gently sat her down on top of the covers. He straightened, and shrugged off his coat, and tossed his hat to the side, making a mental note to put them up properly after he had finished with her, but that may take a while. He added in his mind._

 _Placing his hand beside her, he used his free hand to remove the moustache from her face, with a tender smile._

" _I prefer to see your actual face, Molly Hooper." He whispered, watching her smile as her disguise was removed, along with her wig, allowing her chestnut hair to cascade into a halo around her._

" _Much better," He muttered, before taking her lips with his, and moved to lay down beside her, just letting his hands move over her face, into her hair, and over her still clothed body. All the while, making notes of each contour, shiver, and moan she gave._

 _Soon, their clothes were gone, cast aside in desperation to get closer. To fulfill the yearning they had discovered was always there, but due to society, they had refused to act, until now._

 _Gazing down into her eyes, he smiled, and watched as she smiled in return, lifting her legs to surround his waist._

 _With a smile, he aligned his shaft against her wet opening, and gazing into her eyes, he pushed forward._

"Holmes, Holmes!"

Sherlock jerked out of his mind palace of memory, and turned his head to find Watson gazing at him with a bewildered look on his face. "What is it?" He asked, narrowing his eyes at his friend.

John slowly shook his head, and shrugged his shoulders. "You whispered a name. Well, moaned it actually."

Sherlock shook his head, and scoffed. "I most certainly did not." He stated, watching his friend lift his brows, and nod.

"Yes, you did, Holmes. You said, 'Molly'." Watson remarked, tilting his head to the side. "Who's Molly?" He asked, watching his friend closely, trying to deduce who the woman could be.

Sherlock hid his surprise, effortlessly, and turned away from his friend. "A special friend, Watson. That's all you need to know." He answered, but John didn't miss the secret smile on the detective's face, and for a moment he couldn't stop the smile on his.

* * *

 **Please be kind!**

 **Remember if you have any requests, you may send them in! Loved to hear from you!**

 **Until Next Time...**


	4. I Never Liked the Rain (K)

**I wrote this in less than an hour while it was raining. I hope you enjoy it! Though I personally don't think it's one of my best, but anyway!**

 **THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR SUPPORT! IT MEANS SO MUCH!**

 **Please remember to review at the end! :)**

* * *

 **Description: While it's raining, Sherlock realizes how much he loves the rain, and the why. HINT: A certain pathologist is responsible! And he has a question for her!**

 **Rated: K+**

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For as long as she could remember she loved rainy days and nights, and today was no exception.

Especially since this time, she was surrounded by the warmth of the man who owned her heart.

Tilting her head to the side, she placed her head on his shoulder, and smiled as his head tilted to lay on top of hers as they watched the rain fall down the window of his flat.

"It's so peaceful." She whispered, in the silence of the room with only the noise of the falling rain to fill the void.

He hummed, and she could tell he was where he usually went when there was peace and quiet. He was in his Mind Palace.

Not that she minded, she knew that no matter what, he would come out of the deep thought, and be the ever loving Sherlock she adored with her heart and soul, and the fact that he responded to the short sentence let her know that he wasn't too deep in thought.

She smiled, and reached her right hand down, and slowly threaded her fingers through his left hand, holding on to him as they sat together on his couch.

Her eyes started to drift close, and for a moment, she realized how truly relaxed she was, here in his arms, safe from the storm starting to rage outside.

"Molly?"

At the sound of his voice, her eyes opened, slightly, and she hummed her response.

"Will you marry me?"

Her body froze for an instant, before slowly moving up as she sat straight, and stared at him, trying to determine if he actually had said the four words she thought he had said. "I'm sorry?" She choked out, her eyes widening.

Sherlock cleared his throat, and moved his eyes from the window, where the rain was starting to beat down harder, and the sounds created the perfect sedative. "Will you, Molly Caroline Hooper, marry me?" He asked, gazing into her soft brown eyes.

Her words stuck in her throat, and she slowly began to blink her eyes. "Sherlock, where did this come from?" She asked, after a few moments had passed.

He smirked, slightly, and continued to hold her eyes. "If you must know, the rain helped me decide." He answered, with confidence. "Molly, for years I have despised the rain and the storms because they disrupt my sight and distort the world around me." He began, his eyes holding the honesty he was confessing.

"Until you came along, and made me see what I had been blind to, though I would never admit it to anyone else." He added, watching her smile, lightly. "You love the rain, and I never could understand why, until I came back from my exile." He continued, his voice becoming rushed and deep.

"You love the rain because it disrupts your life, and hides your fears and negative feelings from others, but when it rains," He continued, noting that he had to hurry because of the smile fading slightly on her face. "Now, you come to me, and you share with me what bothers you and what you feel." He stated, watching her eyes brim with tears.

"Sherlock," She whispered, slowly shaking her head. "Please tell me that you're not high." She remarked, with a small laugh.

He smiled, and lifted her left hand to his face, and flattened against his smooth dignified cheekbones. "Only high from the rain, Molly," He answered, feeling her fingers lightly drag against his skin. "What other proof do you need? So I can get my answer." He requested, and she could see the nervous emotion shining in his eyes.

She smiled, and leaned forward. "Say the words." She whispered, only a breath away from his lips.

He leaned slightly forward, touching her lips, slightly. "I love you, Molly Hooper." He whispered, pulling back, ever so slightly.

She laughed, and climbed on his lap, and kissed his lips with joy emanating from her body. "I love you." She returned, feeling him chuckle as his arms wrapped around her waist.

"I need an answer, Molly." He remarked, pulling back from her to gaze into her eyes.

She ran her fingers through his hair, and smiled. "Yes, William Sherlock Scott Holmes, I will marry you." She stated, before they continued their tryst on the couch.

Nearly a month later, they exchanged their vows in a small church in the country with the rain pouring down outside, and nine months later it poured once again when they welcomed little Crystal Rain Holmes into the world.

* * *

 **Please be kind!**

 **I think I'm going to shoot for a Rated M in the next chapter! What would you like to see? Let me know!**

 **Until Next Time...**


	5. Enemy's Daughter Pt One (T)

**Okay, I debated and debated on what to do with this one, so finally I decided to place it here, and I hope you enjoy it!**

 **FYI: There will be a second part to this!**

 **THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT! IT MEANS SO MUCH!**

 **Please remember to review at the end! :)**

* * *

 **Description: While examining a body found in the street, Sherlock realizing the body has a connection to a criminal, and that certain criminal has a connection to a certain pathologist.**

 **Also, this is set in the Victorian Age, (Mainly because I love this era for Sherlock!) but you can look at this as a modern version of the age, if you wish with Molly not having to disguise herself. It can go either way!**

* * *

The moment he saw her, he knew who she was. It wasn't hard, for she held the same calculating eyes as her villain of a father, but instead of her eyes being cold, they were warm and inviting.

He didn't let it be known that he knew who she was, but every moment they spent together, he knew she knew.

He watched as she moved over the corpse at the crime scene, and smiled to himself at how pristine she was, and yet she was the most professional person there, even in the disguise she wore.

"It appears the bullet went straight through, but I can't be certain." She remarked, moving her hands, gently over the man's body. She lifted her eyes to his, and gave a wane smile.

He hummed, and bent down to her level, his eyes staying focused on hers. "It appears the bullet was fired from a distance of twenty or so feet." He concluded, judging from the location of the wound, and the position of the body.

She smiled, and lowered her eyes. "If the bullet did not pass through, then I may have it out as soon as I get to the morgue." She remarked, with interest.

He nodded, and smiled at her. "Well then, I shall see you at the morgue, Dr. Hooper." He replied, standing up, and walked away with his long jacket billowing in the small wind.

She smiled, and bowed her head. "I look forward to it." She whispered, motioning to the others to gather up the body. "He's ready." She added, as the body was lifted onto the gurney.

 **~XXX~**

Everyone had gone home, with the exception of Molly and the corpse. She sighed as she finally was able to let her hair down and work over the corpse without interruptions from Anderson or Lestrade or whoever.

The only one she wished to see was him, and he wouldn't come until a little later.

"Dr. Hooper,"

She stiffened for only a second, and smiled, as she bent over the corpse once again. "Mr. Holmes, I presume." She remarked, as he walked around the table with a small groan.

"You've been reading Watson's stories again." He muttered, shaking his head.

She lifted her eyes, and smiled. "Well, your adventures are quite…riveting." She remarked, with a sly smile.

He rolled his eyes, and bent to focus on the corpse on the table. "Have you recovered the bullet?" He asked, uncaringly.

She sighed, and shook her head. "I was just about to pull it out." She answered, reaching for the tweezers, and motioned for his assistance. "Would you be so kind?" She asked, motioning to the lamp on the table.

He smiled, and complied with her wish, lifting the lamp towards the wound, and focused on the body or more importantly her hands.

They were so small, and yet so capable to whatever she wished to do with them. He envisioned for a moment what they would feel like running through his hair, or better, clinging to his shoulders, letting her small nails bite into his skin as he brought her indescribable pleasure.

"There it is." She remarked, pulling a bullet out with little difficulty. She dropped it into dish bowl beside the body, and smiled. "Do you mind holding the lamp there, while I make sure there are no more?" She asked, politely.

He shook his head, and moved his eyes towards the bowl. "By all means," He murmured, watching her work with delicate hands and expert skill.

For the life of him, he never understood why women were not allowed to participate in these fields, only as assistants. He knew the dangers Molly was placing herself in as she dressed as a man every day in order to perform the profession that seemed to be her calling.

"I can hear your thoughts, Sherlock." She remarked, lifting her eyes carefully, but not lifting her head.

He smirked, and raised one brow. "Oh, can you really, Molly Hooper?" He asked, teasingly.

She smiled, and focused on the body, or at least pretended to. It was hard to concentrate on her work with the man who occupied her thoughts at times. "I don't see any others. You may take away the lantern." She requested, straightening, only to capture the scorching eyes of the man across the table.

She knew what he was looking at, and for the life of her, she wondered why he had not said anything or for that matter, done anything.

Sherlock Holmes was not a man who teased, and by the look on his face, she knew he wasn't teasing. She smiled, and felt a blush appear on her cheeks, before turning away from the body.

"Will you be examining the bullet at your flat or will here be sufficient?" She asked, clearing her throat.

Sherlock hummed, and moved around the table to where she was standing. "I can use this if you don't mind." He answered, watching her shake her head. "Thank you, Dr. Hooper." He added, watching her nod as she lifted the microscope, and placed it in front of him.

"Let me know what you find." She requested, moving away from him towards the body.

He smiled, and nodded, and then focused his attention towards the bullet in the microscope. His smile faded as he began to notice the markings, and upon closer examination he realized why they appeared to be familiar. "Lancaster," He muttered, knowing immediately where the bullet came from.

Molly turned around when she heard the mumbling, and the name of the gun caused her to pale. "Sherlock?" She asked, her voice quaking.

Sherlock stiffened at the sound of his name on her lips, and lifted his head from the scope to find her beside him. "Molly…"

"You said Lancaster." She whispered, bowing her head to gaze at the microscope. "It's him, isn't it?" She asked, her voice shaking.

He sighed, and opened his mouth to disprove the accusation, but he couldn't. Not to her. "The markings are similar." He answered, in a semi-unemotional tone.

She nodded, and turned her gaze to the body on the table. "You're the only one who knows, right?" She asked, focusing on the body.

Sherlock nodded, and watched her face turn from a daughter worried or scared for her father to a professional woman he knew and cared for. Besides, he knew what she was asking. She was hoping no one else knew that she was daughter of a criminal, or son, in this age. "Molly, will you…?"

The shake of her head stopped his words from finishing. "I'll be fine. It's like any other job, right?" She answered, forcing a smile.

Sherlock hummed, and watched her move away towards the body to finish her examination. He knew what this meant to her, and to him.

There was one thing left to do. Standing up, he moved in quick, long strides towards her, and stilled her shaking hand before she could reach for the scalpel. In a quick turn, he pulled her into his arms, and let her cry.

 **~XXX~**

"Mrs. Hudson, would be so kind as to bring up a pot of tea?" He asked, as they entered the brownstone, and he nodded towards the kind woman who thought of him as a son.

Mrs. Hudson nodded, and sent a sympathetic gaze towards Molly, who had changed into her high collar dress, and her hair was pulled up in a period style bun, but it wasn't the dress or the hair that caught Mrs. Hudson's eyes, it was the red eyes of Molly Hooper. "I'll be right up, dear." She responded, turning towards the kitchen.

Sherlock nodded a thank you, and led Molly up the stairs towards his loft. "Here, let me." He volunteered, taking her top coat, and hanging it up along with his Belstaff.

She smiled, and moved towards the window. Folding her arms over her chest, she stared out into the streets, and sighed. "Thank you, Mr. Holmes." She remarked, hearing him move behind her.

"Molly," He responded, causing her to turn around.

Molly lifted her brown eyes to his, and smiled, softly. "I was perfectly capable of heading back to my home, Sherlock. I did not need to come here. What would Mrs. Hudson say?" She asked, just as the woman entered.

"I would say that you are a client in need of some comfort." She responded, placing a tray on the table. "Besides, times are changing, Ms. Hooper." She added, straightening with a kind smile. "No one needs to know who Sherlock brings home." She concluded, with a tender gaze. "I'll just be downstairs if you need me." She finished, walking out the door, and closed it behind her.

Sherlock nodded, but his eyes were focused on Molly. "Are you alright?" He asked, gently.

She smiled, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. "I will be when this is over." She answered, strongly. "Did you ever figure out why my father killed that man?" She asked, moving away from him.

Sherlock shook his head. "No, I have not." He answered, keeping his distance from her as she moved to sit down on the couch.

She nodded, lifting her head to look at him. "I want to help, Sherlock." She stated, watching him smile.

He moved towards her, and sat down in the chair across from her. "I'll accept." He responded, lifting his hands to clasp them in front of his face, and bent his head.

She tilted her head, and watched him enter the place only few had the privilege to witness.

He had entered his mind palace.

 **~XXX~**

It was hour before he came back to the real world, and lifted his eyes to find her in the kitchen. He slowly stood up, and entered the kitchen with quick strides.

She turned around, and smiled. "I wanted to fix something to eat." She responded, motioning to the fresh pot of food on the stove.

He nodded, but his eyes conveyed a question she knew he had.

She tilted her head. "I don't know any of his associates or men who had dealings with him." She answered the unspoken question.

He hummed, as he usually did when he received an answer he didn't like.

"I'm sorry." She responded, but his head shook before she could respond any other way.

"Tomorrow, I'll go to Lestrade, and determine who he is." He remarked, with certainty.

She nodded, and bowed her head.

Fingers encircled her chin, and lifted her face to his. "I promise, Molly Hooper, they will not find out your connection to him." He vowed, watching her smile.

She lifted her hand to grasp his wrist. "I trust you, Sherlock Holmes." She whispered, holding his eyes.

He smiled, and bent his head, placing it on his forehead on hers. In that moment, it was enough.

* * *

 **Please be kind!**

 **At first, it was going to be short, and then I thought of making this a full story, but then I decided to just do two parts, so I hope you like!**

 **I'm still taking requests, so if you have any! I'll get to them all soon!**

 **Until Next Time...**


	6. Golden Eyes (T)

**THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT! IT MEANS A LOT!**

 **Please remember to review at the end! :)**

* * *

 **Description: Sherlock has a secret, and it's one that no one can know, except for a certain pathologist! Dragonlock! (first time writing something like this!)**

* * *

It was a secret he never told anyone. He couldn't. He wouldn't. The secret, once out, would destroy everything. His relationships, his reputation, everything that mattered to him. It was a nature none would understand, and was frowned upon in a society that feared his kind.

He entered his flat, intent on locking the door, and letting his nature free for a few hours. After today, he needed it.

He had almost revealed himself to her. It was hard to keep his nature under control when she entered the room with her hair pulled up in a side knot, and her perfume, light with a hint of rose petals, filled his senses.

It was too much. He nearly transformed and let his darkness have her. How could he continue to work under those conditions? If he let his nature have his way, he would destroy her. That was the price of being dragon kind. Humans could not get close to them, for the dragon side would burn them alive or worse as some would put it.

He dropped his belstaff on the floor, followed by his scarf, and cocked his neck from side to side. He felt his incisors extend, along with the rest of his teeth. His tongue licked his lips, and he felt the burn of the acid, which was natural, sizzle on his skin. He smelled the smoke emanating from his nose, and smiled.

His back cracked and moved as the wings, which he kept hidden so well, ripped through his buttoned shirt, and extended out , filling half of the room. His nails became sharpened, and scales began to appear on his neck, down to his shoulders, leading to his wings.

"Sherlock?"

He stilled his movements, and turned his body to face the door. He could have sworn he had locked it. His eyes opened to reveal his eyes changing to a mild, golden hue. "Molly…"

Molly studied the man in front of her, and suddenly all the pieces began to fit together. "Mrs. Hudson gave me a key." She explained, closing the door, and locked it, before moving towards him in careful movements. "When you left the morgue in hast, I grew worried." She continued, watching his eyes change to a deeper hue of gold.

"You shouldn't be here." He remarked, feeling a deep growl emanate from his chest.

She shook her head, and slowly approached him, careful with her steps and movements. He flinched as she came closer, and wanted to run, but the look of amazement in her eyes told him not move. Her right hand lifted, and lightly touched the scales on his neck, and traced them down to his chest, where his shirt was tattered due to the wings. "Why didn't you tell me?" She asked, lifting her eyes to his.

He searched her eyes, and felt his talons ache with the nerve to touch her, love her, but he couldn't. "It's dangerous to know." He answered, observing her lower her eyes.

It was dangerous to know. Fear was a dangerous enemy, and those who didn't understand the dragon gene, shrink in fear, and held their breath until the dragon left their proximity.

Those who associated with known dragons were ostracized, and were ridiculed in some form, even though the dragon gene was said to be common, it was still uncomfortable, and dangerous. It was especially dangerous for a dragon to be more than friends with a human.

Molly let her hand rest on his chest, and for a moment, she just stared into his golden eyes. "It's only dangerous if you let it, Sherlock." She responded, watching him tense, and his golden eyes faded to the heterochromia color she knew well.

Sherlock studied her, and felt his wings move to surround them. "You can't be here." He remarked, though the argument was mute on her ears.

She sighed, and stepped closer. "Why because of what you are?" She asked, hearing him growl low in his chest.

"Yes," He stated, inhaling deeply, smelling the gold on her finger.

She shook her head, and felt her blood boil at the sound of his breathing. She knew what he was sensing. "You know, don't you?" She asked, watching his eyes turn back to a golden hue. "You sense it."

He felt his heart pound, as his wings met behind her back, and he knew what she was meaning. "Why have I not seen it before?"

She felt her cheeks warm, and her eyes lowered. "Maybe you weren't seeing." She remarked, closing her eyes for a moment, before opening them to looking into his eyes for a brief moment.

He hummed, and searched her face, his eyes taking in every feature of her face, and discovering the hints that had been hidden from him for so long. "You're a half-breed." He stated, his voice giving nothing away. "Your father…"

She slowly nodded, knowing his words didn't intend to inflict pain. Sherlock tried never to harm her with his words, not after the blunder at the Christmas party. She had learned to take his words as a compliment; for he had said once that he respected her above others, besides his best friend, John Watson.

"Your mother is an exceptional human." He remarked, firmly. "To have procreated with one of our kind, and raised you." He added, as Molly's eyes shimmered with small flecks of gold, not the full gold like his, but just enough to let him know of her heritage.

"She is. She loved my dad, and he loved her." She remarked, feeling his wings rub her back, signaling her own revelation. "I can't transform completely." She added, rubbing the scales on his chest, being brave for the fourth time in her life.

He smirked, letting affection show on his face. "Perhaps you never tried." He returned, studying her face. "You are an exceptional woman, Molly Hooper. You can do anything you wish." He added, searching her golden flaked eyes.

Bending his head, he stopped only a breath away from her lips, before lifting his hands to cup her face. Catching her lips with his, he felt a burn deep within his chest, and felt the burn of her tongue as it touched his in a sensual way. She was his match in every way. There was no doubt of that now.

His mouth opened wide against hers, and he felt her moan/growl as she leaned further against his body. He pulled back, and smiled, observing her eyes opening to reveal a brilliant color of pure gold. He was right.

"Welcome to my world, Molly Hooper." He murmured, huskily, before capturing her lips once again, smiling as she smiled against his.

* * *

 **Please be kind! :)**

 **I'm still accepting requests for this! If there is anything you wish to see, I will do my best to make it happen! Have a great one! (I may write a second part to this, if you wish it...more M...)**

 **Until Next Time...**


	7. Golden Eyes Pt 2 (M)

**Okay, I had a few requests to continue the first part, so here it is! I hope you all like it!**

 **THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT! IT MEANS SO MUCH!**

 **Please remember to review at the end! :)**

* * *

" _I can't transform completely." She added, rubbing the scales on his chest, being brave for the fourth time in her life._

 _He smirked, letting affection show on his face. "Perhaps you never tried." He returned, studying her face. "You are an exceptional woman, Molly Hooper. You can do anything you wish." He added, searching her golden flaked eyes._

* * *

His wings secured her to his body, letting her hands begin to push the remaining fabric of his shirt off his shoulders, until skin was the only object she could feel. His long talons cut through the fabric of her shirt, down the middle of her body, between her breasts, cutting her bra along the way.

She gasped as his hands transformed to his regular hands, and he traced her skin with light fingers, stopping to encircle her breasts. She lifted her eyes to his, and saw his eyes had remained a golden hue, and she lifted her hand to touch his face.

Unspoken requests filled the air, when their eyes locked, and both smiled for they knew what was about to take place. Molly shivered in his arms, feeling his wings rip the remainder of her shirt and bra from her body until they were in tatters on the floor. The feel of his leather, scaled wings against her back made her moan, and arch into his body.

Sherlock smiled, and bent his head, letting his lips touch her neck in a sensuous way. The feel of her breast touching his chest, made a growl emanate inside his chest, and he wanted more. He could feel the scales forming on her breasts, and it made his want for her grow tenfold.

Molly's head tilted to the side, and felt her transformation as if it was the most natural thing she could ever feel. Her fingers grew talons as her hands moved down to his waist, and her skin…

Her skin had golden flaked scales, like his. Perhaps this is what happed to half-breeds when they made love with a full-blood, if that is what they were doing.

"Don't be absurd, Molly." Sherlock's voice cut through her thoughts. "Of course that is what we are doing." He muttered, before nibbling on her throat, and gripped her hips hard with his hands.

She smiled, and felt her body being lifted from ground, and carried somewhere. Where she could only guess was his bedroom, considering moments later she heard the door close, and a satisfied groan from Sherlock indicated they were where they needed to be.

He pulled back from his exploration of her throat, and his golden eyes searched her now full golden eyes. His wings pulled back, and melded into his back. It was a beautiful sight to behold. "You'll have your own soon." He promised, but Molly wasn't so sure. She had heard of half-breeds never transforming in their life, even though some stories told of a few who did, but she was never one for stories.

His hand caressed her face while the other traced the scales on her breast. "Do you trust me?" He asked in a low husky voice.

Molly, hypnotized by his voice and her feelings, only nodded, unsure if her voice could hold up.

He smiled, and in a moment, his and her pants were gone, leaving them naked in the bedroom of the consulting detective.

"Look at your body, Molly. Never had I seen such a treasure of gold." He remarked, turning her to the mirror on the door towards his bathroom. "I can smell it on you like nectar. It calls to me." He added in a husky, baritone voice.

She shivered, and tried to focus on her body, but it was fruitless. She could tell the scales covered her side, down to her hips, and her breasts… She felt his eyes surveying the golden scales covering the front over her stomach. She was beautiful.

"Beautiful is not how I would describe you."

His words echoed in her mind, and she knew she could hear him without him opening his mouth. She wanted to ask how, but she already knew. Turning to face him, she placed her hands on his chest, and stroked the scales.

He growled, and stroked her skin, loving the feel of her scales, smooth as he ran his hands down, but coarse as he ran them up. The gold engrained in her scales, filled his nostrils, and he wondered why he hadn't smelled it before now. "They've never appeared before, have they?" He asked, in a grovel tone.

Molly shook her head. "I've never…" She began, but her words seemed mute, as his fingers ran over her face.

"Do you know that a half-breed can become a full blood, only if they become mated to a full blood?" He asked, absently.

Molly shook her head, and watched his face melt into a warm gaze.

He hummed, and bent his head, only to capture her lips with his in a fiery kiss that burned their souls in their bodies. They clung tighter to each other, neither wanting to let go. His tongue burned like acid as it moved over hers, which seemed to soothe the burning.

"You are an extraordinary woman, Molly Hooper." He remarked, pulling back just long enough to pull her into the bedroom, and sit down with her standing between his legs.

She smiled at the compliment, and placed her hands on his face, watching his eyes spark with the golden hue she was beginning to know so well. He returned her smile with only a smirk, and leaned his head forward to brush his lips over her breasts.

He could taste the gold from her skin, and it made his dragon blood burn hotter than ever. He heard her cry echo in his ears, and it awoke the dragon inside even more.

His head lifted, and he saw her eyes flash gold. Her dragon was awakening.

Smirking from the knowledge, he bent his head once more, and gently sucked her breasts, reveling in the golden taste, and her response to his attention.

She clung to his shoulders, lost in the euphoria of feelings he was eliciting, and it made her growl with anticipation. Her nails lengthened as he licked her nipples, and his elongated teeth brushed over each nub before gently nibbling her breasts.

Her heart pounded in her chest, and she couldn't hold back the cry from her throat as she felt her body sing with joy and satisfaction. She needed more than this. She craved it.

"Do you want to taste my gold, Molly Hooper?" His voice growled through her thoughts.

She opened her eyes, and found his eyes staring into her, and his face was transforming with the sides covered in scales, golden scales, that made her mouth water.

Sherlock saw the hunger in her eyes, and pulled her towards him, picking her up slightly so her legs would straddle his hips. He felt her seat her bottom near his member, and though he ached to be inside her, he resisted. He wanted her to taste him. To feel what he felt when he tasted her sweet nectar. It was not logical, and yet it was for him to feel this way. He had never wanted someone's gold before, and it thrilled him to know that it was hers he wanted.

Her lips, hesitantly, touched his neck, and he controlled the growl emanating from his diaphragm. It was exquisite to feel it. Her talons, which first appeared when he had tasted her, dug into his shoulders, and gave him such exquisite, pain that if he had been standing, he would have fallen to his knees.

Molly felt her mouth explode with tastes as she licked and sucked on his neck. It was like lifeblood to a thirsty woman, to taste this sweet nectar. She had never tasted anything like this.

She moaned, and let her tongue move over his neck, and he let out a growl. Her tongue was not as acidic as his, but it was enough to make him nearly roar with pleasure.

"Molly,"

His pleading voice broke through her euphoria, and she slowly pulled back to gaze into his eyes. Her mouth ached, and as she opened her mouth, he noticed her teeth had started to transform into her dragons. She was beautiful, breathtaking, and she was his, or soon would be.

Pulling her forward, he captured her lips with his, and trailed his hands down to her hips. Lifting her, ever so slightly, he felt her opening pressing against his hardened shaft.

The taste of her filled his senses, and as she lowered her hips, they separated, and caught each other's eyes.

As he slid insider her, he growled in satisfaction, as did she, it was a perfect moment. A revelation, a moment they wished would last.

Slowly, the rocking began. Her head fell back and her mouth hung open, feeling the slickness of his shaft slide perfectly into her body. She felt such power inside her. Power she had never felt before, and as she lifted her head, she saw what it was. Her eyes were focused on his, and she saw his power, his body becoming one with hers.

He let out a growl, no not a growl a rumble as he gripped her tight, and flipped her over on his bed. Never taking his shaft from inside her body, he thrusted deep within her core. Her hands roamed over his back, and she felt the indentions of his wings, wings that were hidden from the rest of the world, but not from her. Absently, she wondered if she would ever fly, just as her mind began to fill with golden thoughts.

"I'll take you."

Her eyes opened, and she focused on his. She smiled, just as he thrust into her with a rough look.

She nodded, and touched his face, lifting her legs high to encircle his waist. The move caused her to roar in a way that made him proud. "Oh, for the love of…there…oh…" She cried in a panted breathe, feeling her teeth elongate, and her arms tighten around his body.

He groaned, and turned his head before letting out a roar that signified his release was near. Molly turned her head, wanting to sink her teeth into his skin, not knowing why, but felt the need to bury herself deep within him in some way.

She felt her skin burn like the sun, and her heart pounded in her chest. She was so close. So close…

She felt a knot deep in her stomach, and at that moment, she knew. Turning their heads in unison, they opened their mouths, and bit down on each other's necks. At that perfect moment, something happened.

Something they could never explain in a thousand years.

A glow encompassed them, as he continued to move within her, and their skins lit up like the lights of Paris. They pulled their teeth out of their necks, and caught their lips in a slow action that made the light brighter.

As they slowly parted, they gazed into each other's eyes, and in that instant, they came together. With Molly arching her back upwards, and Sherlock's hips arching down, sealing their fates forever more with one simple act.

Hours later, Molly awoke to find her head resting on a soft, moving pillow. She looked down her body, afraid to move too much, as the memory of what happened flashed in her mind. She tied to contain the gasp as she noticed her skin still had the scales, and her fingers…She lifted her right hand from his stomach, and noticed the talons that were regressing back into her human hands.

"You're a full blood now."

His voice startled her, and she lifted her head to find him staring at her, before he reached for her right hand, and secured it to his body with his left. "At least, you have the appearances of a full blood, thanks to being mated to one." He explained in a dry tone.

Molly's body stiffened. Her mind raced over the events. She had bitten him, and he had… "Oh my stars…" She whispered, moving to sit up, taking her hand from his, and moved to feel her neck.

She winced as the touch burned slightly, but it soothed when he pushed her hair back, and touched her mark. "Thank you." She replied, lowering her eyes.

Sherlock hummed, and moved to cup her chin with his hand, and turned her face to look at him. "We are mated, Molly, and believe me when I say, I have never wanted to be mated to anyone." He began, watching her face close up until he said the next words. "Until I met you,"

Her eyes lifted, and she let out a sigh of relieve. "Neither did I," She returned, watching him take in her meaning with a soulful look.

Sherlock leaned forward, and brushed his lips over hers, letting her feel the full effect of their mating. "It's forever, Molly Hooper."

She smiled, and leaned into body as he pushed her back down onto the bed.

Forever sounded beautiful.

* * *

 **Please be kind!**

 **I'm working on a request made a few days ago, hopefully it'll be ready this weekend! If you guys have any more, feel free to send them my way! I enjoy a challenge!**

 **Until Next Time...**


	8. Blue Scarf (K)

**I have a few requests I'm currently working on, but this one jumped out at me, after rewatching a few scenes between them, and I noticed the similar scarfs they wore, also from a post on Tumblr. Writers imagination kicked in.**

 **THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR SUPPORT! IT MEANS ALOT!**

 **Please remember to review at the end! :)**

* * *

 **Description: The Story behind the iconic Blue scarf. (Idea came from Tumblr)**

* * *

He had always detested Christmas. So cheerful and waiting for a chubby man in a ridiculous red suit was something he never understood. Why ask for something you could buy yourself from a man you never saw or who didn't exist?

It was preposterous.

Entering the morgue, he sighed as Christmas music trickled to his ears. Leave it to her to enjoy this time of year.

It was one of the things he deduced when he met her. She was full of emotions. Something he detested or considered a hindrance, and yet…

He rolled his eyes, and shook his head.

"Oh, Sherlock, I didn't think you were coming today."

He clasped his hands behind his back, and hummed. "Why wouldn't I?" He asked, nonchalantly.

Molly Hooper, resident pathologist, smiled, and bowed her head. "Well, I…it's Christmas Eve." She stuttered, and he sighed when he saw her cheeks redden.

"Only for people who celebrate it," He remarked, lowering his head a fraction before lifting it to look at her once more. "Do you have something for me?" He asked, hoping she had something that would occupy him during this pagan time.

Molly smiled, and turned on her heel, letting her hair fly behind her as she did so. "Oh, yes…"

Sherlock sighed, and moved towards the table, wishing there was a body to look at. He heard her small steps come up behind him, and he slowly turned to find her holding a red package with green ribbon in her hands.

"You don't have to open now, but Happy Christmas." She remarked, extending her arms towards him.

He lowered his eyes to the package, and saw the way her hands slightly shook. She was nervous. Knowing he had to act seemingly interested, he gave a slight smile, and took the package from her hands.

She smiled, and bowed her head. "I'll, uh, get you those organs you wanted."

"No," He remarked, causing her to stop mid-turn, and tilt her head to gaze at him. "I'll get them later. Good day, Molly Hooper." He stated, walking towards the door, and stopped to look at her. "Um, Happy Christmas," He added, opening the door, and stepped through, leaving her flabbergasted, and staring at the door as if she was missing something important.

 **~XXX~**

He stared at the package. His hands folded in front of his face, and his eyes focused on the object. He would have to open it sooner or later.

His rainbow eyes narrowed, slightly, trying to figure out what it was. No one, besides his parents, ever gave him a gift.

Leaning forward, he dropped his hands to slowly unwrap the gift. The green ribbon fell on the table, and slowly, he un-wrapped the red package. Looking at the white box, his fingers itched to open it. Slowly lifting the lid, he froze for a second as he saw blue material resting inside.

Dropping the lid beside the bottom half, he reached inside the box, and slowly lifted the material, along with a small white note.

 _It gets cold sometimes._

He couldn't stop the smile on his face, as he lowered the note, and stretched the blue material out. He nodded, and slowly wrapped it around his neck.

Standing up to look in the mirror in his bathroom, he nodded. It was handmade. The color was perfect, not bright not dull, but unique.

It was him.

The next day and for days to come, Sherlock Holmes never went anywhere without the blue scarf, and only he knew why.

Molly Hooper made it.

* * *

 **Please be kind!**

 **Hope you liked it! With it being Christmas, this story seemed calling to me to write.**

 **Again, those who sent in requests, I'm working on them right now, and hope to have them up in a few days. If you have anymore, send them in, and I'll see what I can do!**

 **Until Next Time...**


	9. Giving Up (T)

**I wrote this as a result of Sunday's episode. So, SPOILER ALERT!**

 **Thank you all for your continued support! It means alot!**

 **Please remember to review at the end! :)**

* * *

The knock sounded in her ears as she placed little Rosie in her crib, and straightened. It had been three months since she had last seen him, and it hurt her, but Rosie needed her, and John…well John was more withdrawn than before.

She heard John answer the door, and she sighed. Maybe it was good news. When she had talked to Mrs. Hudson, she heard how cold Sherlock had gotten. He wasn't himself anymore, and she couldn't blame him. She blamed John.

She had tried to reach out to him, but Sherlock had shut her out. He had shut everyone out.

"Molly, it's for you."

Molly tilted her head as she approached the door, and recognized the woman on the other end. "Alethea, what's wrong?" She asked, feeling John standing just behind her.

Alethea's eyes were distant as she shifted her gaze. "You are requested at the hospital, Molly." She stated, grimly. "There has been…an accident." She added, watching Molly carefully.

Molly gripped her chest. "Sherlock…" She whispered, watching the other woman nod her head. "What happened?" She asked, feeling John step closer. "Is he alright?" She asked, her voice in a panic.

Alethea shook her head. "I'm afraid he's not going to make it." She answered, coldly. "He's given up, but he's asking for you." She added, as Molly nodded.

Molly turned around, and grabbed her coat.

"Molly, what about Rosamund? What about…?" John started, trying to catch her.

Molly shook her head. "She'll be fine, John. Sherlock needs me." She stated, heading for the door.

"He doesn't need anyone, Molly. He just gets people killed." He returned, roughly.

Molly stilled at the door, and turned to face him. All the months of pain built up, and she couldn't hold back anymore. "She was my friend too, John, and I don't blame him." She began, her voice coming to a near shout. "He was ready to take the bullet, but Mary stepped in front because she wanted to protect him. She made the choice to save him. He didn't push her. He was her friend, and she loved him. Yes, she loved him, not like she loved you, but as a friend. That's what friends do, John." She continued, her anger and pain entering her words. "We help each other, and we protect each other, no matter what. If you don't get that, then you aren't his friend." She added, slamming the door as she left him alone in the room.

 **~XXX~**

The drive to the hospital was long and frustrating. All Alethea would tell her was Sherlock was crossing the street when someone hit him and left him in the street. The doctors were able to stabilize him, but he had given up.

Her words to John ran through her mind, and she realized she was harsh, but it needed to be said. It had to be.

He wasn't hurting just Sherlock or her, he was hurting himself, and the sooner he realized it, the better it would be, but what if it was too late?

She didn't even remember rushing through the doors of the hospital or rushing to his room, finding Mycroft standing just outside with a grim look on his face.

She heard footsteps behind her, and she turned her head just enough to see John entering the hospital carrying his daughter in his arms.

She shook her head, and felt Mycroft's hand on her arm, and she lifted her eyes to his.

"He's asking for you." He choked out, and she realized that was the most emotion she had ever heard from him.

She nodded, and entered the room, stopping when she heard Mycroft speak again, but this time not to her.

"You are not welcome here."

She turned her head, and sighed as John faced off Mycroft, who pointed to the door.

"You put him here, Doctor. You are not welcome." Mycroft stated, just as Molly made it to the bed.

Sherlock lay on his back with bruises lining his face with a scruff lining his face and his hair long and haggard. He looked like he had been using, but she knew he wasn't. He had promised her. She saw left hand in a cast, and his right was resting beside him. She could see the bandage around his body, signifying broken ribs.

"Oh, Sherlock," She whispered, moving towards him, reaching out to touch his right hand.

Her eyes searched his face, and she sighed. His eyes opened, slowly, and she saw the pain in his mixed colored eyes. "You came…" He whispered, his voice emotionless.

She nodded, and held onto his right hand. "Of course I came, I wasn't going to…" She paused, bowing her head to let the tears fall down her face.

"It's okay, Molly. I've made peace with it all." He cracked out, watching her eyes lift to catch his.

"Sherlock, don't talk like that." She ordered, leaning forward. "You're going to make it." She added, trying to remain hopeful.

He sent her a small smile, and shook his head. "No, I'm not." He returned, lowering his eyes. "I just wanted to say…" He paused, his breath getting ragged. "I'm sorry." He continued, and she could tell it was getting harder for him to breathe. "I never meant to cause pain."

She shook her head, and touched his face. "You haven't hurt me, Sherlock." She tried to console him.

He smiled, albeit faintly, and sighed. "I do nothing but hurt those I love." He continued, his voice getting low and cracking. "Live…Molly…Hooper…." He breathed out, before his eyes closed.

Molly shook her head, and covered her mouth with her hands. "NO! Sherlock!" She shouted, leaning forward to grasp his face with her hands. She heard people rushing into the room, but she didn't care. She heard John shouting at Sherlock as he rushed to his side, telling him that he can't die.

Her body shook with pain and fear, as she touched his bruised face. "You can't leave me!" She shouted, and bent her head to lay it on his neck.

"I love you…"

* * *

 **Please be kind!**

 **Sorry for the angst, but I was heartbroken by the episode, so this is was the result.**

 **If you sent in requests, I'll have them up in the next few days. I've been pretty busy trying to get a paper finished for my history class, but now that it's done, I have time to get caught up.**

 **Until Next Time...**


	10. Miss You (K)

**Okay, I've been in a funk for the past few days in the aftermath of the Sherlock episode, so yeah, some of the requests are getting behind, but a few are almost done, so more updates soon!**

 **THANK YOU FOR YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT! IT MEANS ALOT TO ME! :)**

 **Please remember to review at the end!**

* * *

 **Description: Molly helps Sherlock see his goddaughter. Slight angst.**

* * *

John was at work once again, and Molly was watching Rosie as she always did at night, when her shift ended.

She smiled as little Rosie babbled along to whatever, and moved to sit up, slapping her hands on her legs with a joyous laugh.

Molly lifted her phone, and unlocked to turn it to video. She knew John would be gone until late at night, so it was safe for now. "Rosie, can you look at the camera?" She asked, as the little girl turned her head, and smiled sweetly.

Molly smiled, and hit the record button. "Can you say hi for me?" She nearly choked out.

Rosie smiled, and lifted her right hand to wave at her godmother. "Hi…" She spoke in a baby tone that made Molly smile.

"Okay, do you remember the other words?" Molly asked, tears building in her eyes.

Rosie giggled, and started scooting on the floor, using her legs to pull her forward. "M…mis…miss…you…" She garbled, with a laugh.

Molly smiled, and slowly turned the phone to face her. "I'll see you soon." She remarked, stopping the video, and moved to the messaging part, and smiled as she touched his name.

Uploading the video, she hit send, and waited. Locking the phone, she picked up Rosie, and held her close. She hated doing this to him, but she knew it was hard for him not being able to see Rosie when he wanted because of John.

Her phone dinged, and she lifted it from the couch, unlocked it, and smiled at the message. She kissed Rosie's head, and laughed. "He misses you too." She remarked, as Rosie touched the phone, and accidently hit his name for calling. "No, Rosie…" She stopped when he answered, and she hit the speaker phone. "Sherlock…"

"How is she?" He asked, quickly, knowing they had to keep it brief.

Molly bowed her head. "She hit the call button on the phone." She stated, with a smile.

He hummed, and she smiled. "She's smart. Just like her mother." He responded, as tears hit her eyes, and she sniffed.

"Yes, she is. I'll see you soon." She repeated, ending the call, just as she heard the key turn in the hole.

John entered, and smiled as he approached his daughter, and took her from Molly's arms. "Who were you talking to?" He asked, watching her place the phone in her back pocket.

She smiled. "Mike, he wanted to be sure that I was going to be at work in the morning." She lied, with a nod of her head. "Well, I better be going." She added, touching Rosie's head. "See you later, Rosie." She wished, smiling as she gathered her belongings, and walked out of the room.

 **~XXX~**

She entered the flat, and sighed as she saw him standing at the window with his hands behind his back. She set her stuff down, and approached him, slowly.

"She's crawling." He remarked, and she sighed.

"She's learning." She added, as he finally turned, and she saw the pain in his eyes. "I'm sorry. I thought it would help." She began, and his face morphed to understanding.

"It did." He agreed, as she searched his eyes.

She smiled, and lifted her hand to touch his face. "You'll see her again." She whispered, holding his eyes. "He'll come around."

He nodded, and closed his eyes. Normally he was good about hiding his emotions, but with her, he couldn't. She understood his pain. She understood him. She was the only one he could count on during this time.

"Thank you, Molly Hooper." He whispered, opening his eyes to convey his emotions.

She nodded, and dropped her hand to his chest. "Anytime,"

* * *

 **Please be kind!**

 **As said before, I'm going to work on the other requests. If you have any, let me know! I'm ready to write something happy.**

 **Until Next Time...**


	11. 3 Pounds (K)

**I saw this in a post on Tumblr, and I wanted to try my hand at it. Took fifteen minutes to write. Hope you like it!**

 **THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT! IT MEANS SO MUCH!**

 **Please remember to review at the end! :)**

* * *

 **Description: Set in The Great Game. Sherlock makes a comment that Molly has gained 3 pounds to which she challenges. (No Jim in this one, sorry guys)**

* * *

"Actually, it's two and a half." She insisted, nervously.

He stared into the microscope, and slightly shook his head, as he disagreed. "No, it's three." He returned, trying to focus on the microscope.

She shifted her gaze to John, before focusing on Sherlock. "How can you tell?" She asked, facing him off, though her nervousness could be heard from the tone in her voice.

John cleared his throat before Sherlock could answer, and gave Sherlock a don't-even-go-there look.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, and turned to look at Molly. "Well, first of all, your face is puffier than usual, and it's not from water retention." He began, mildly hearing John groan and 'Oh God' behind him. "Because you and I both know that it's not that time," He continued, watching her mouth open in shock and embarrassment. "But what really tipped it off earlier was when you…" He paused, realizing that perhaps what he was about to say was going too far.

Molly seemed to realize what he was going to say, and slowly her mouth closed, and a slow smile appeared on her face. "When I what?" She asked, carefully.

Sherlock cleared his throat, and lowered his head, trying to focus again on the microscope. "When you handed me the specimen," He answered, though that was not the moment he was talking about.

She timidly moved closer to him, and stopped a few inches from him, wanting to know the truth. "That wasn't it, Sherlock." She stated, as he lifted his eyes to hers, and he began to smile, and it wasn't a fake smile she had seen so many times, it was a truthful smile.

"John, would you excuse us?" Sherlock requested, holding Molly's eyes.

John, who knew something was about to happen, cleared his throat, and quickly walked out of the lab. Though he was curious, this was why he stopped outside the door, guarding it and listening at the same time.

Sherlock tilted his head to the side, and moved his eyes up and down her body. "Do you really want to go there, Molly Hooper?" He asked, and she tried to contain the shiver from her full name on his lips.

"I want to know how you know." She answered, as he slowly reached up with his left hand and moved it inside her lab coat.

He held her eyes, and moved his hand down her side to her hips, and a smile once again appeared on his face. "Because I can feel it," He answered, lowly.

She swallowed, nervously. "You can't feel three pounds." She stated, shaking her head, in a short shake.

He hummed, and placed his right hand on her hip. "I can when I know this body like the back of my hand." He answered, watching her eyes dilate. He loved that look.

She closed her eyes, and bowed her head. "You're horrible." She returned, as he smiled.

"I prefer high-functioning sociopath." He grumbled, lowly, pulling her closer, until she was standing between his legs.

She smiled, letting out a soft laugh. "You're not a sociopath." She muttered, as he titled his head to the side.

He smiled, and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her down to capture her lips with his.

"You never answered my question." She moaned out as they separated. "I still say two and a half." She argued, but he groaned.

He smiled, and brushed his lips over her neck. "Your hips are a fraction wider, at least two pounds and your stomach have…well…you can figure that out and your breasts…that's at least a pound…" He paused, lifting his eyes to her, and she saw the mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Have you taken that test?" He asked, as she blushed.

She shook her head, and he squeezed her hips. "Well, I do suggest you take it, Molly, because there may be another reason for you gaining weight." He added, watching her eyes sparkle. "A wonderful prospect, I believe."

"Two and a half," She whispered, and he shook his head.

"Three," He argued, and she tilted her head to the side. He rolled his eyes. "Take the bloody test, Molly, and then we'll go to the doctor to get the exact number."

She rolled her eyes, and felt his hand on her stomach. "Three…" She whispered, lowering her eyes to his hand on her stomach, and he smiled.

"Three…"

* * *

 **Please be kind!**

 **I have a request fic coming up today, since I'm in a writing mood. It's called Jealousy requested by romiross.**

 **If you have any requests, don't hesitate to send a message to me through Tumblr or here. My handle is the same on Tumblr.**

 **Until Next Time...**


	12. Jealousy (K)

**I finally got around to getting this request finished! Hope you all enjoy it!**

 **THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT! IT MEANS SO MUCH!**

 **Please remember to review at the end!**

* * *

 **Request by romiross** _: Hi! I want to make a request: Sherlock notes that Molly and Lestrade get along very well. Perhaps too well. And John input about how impressed was Lestrade with Molly's since That Christmas doesn't Help Sherlock's discomfort. Yes, is a jealous Sherlock. Could you do it_?

(Hope you enjoy it!)

* * *

He watched from a distance as she leaned towards Inspector Lestrade. His eyes narrowed, at the subtle way he touched Molly's back, and she smiled, sweetly. Perhaps too sweetly.

He pushed through the doors, and watched as she lifted her head, and her sweet smile faded from her face. He wondered fleetingly what happened to her sweet smile.

He sent a glare towards Lestrade, and moved to the table. "Molly,"

"I'll be with you in a moment, Sherlock." She interrupted, turning to Lestrade. "I'll have the tox reports back in a few hours."

Lestrade nodded, and stepped back with a bow of his head towards Sherlock. "I'll see you tonight, Molly."

"Tonight, Greg." She confirmed, with another sweet smile, as Lestrade stepped out of the room.

Sherlock glared at her, wanting to say something that would stop her from meeting the inspector. "You have a date?" He asked, though he had observed it for himself.

Molly hummed, and turned to the table where some specimens waited. "What do you need?" She asked, and right away his mind went to a different time when she had asked that question.

He swallowed, and turned his head. "Nothing," He answered, backing up, and turned to the door. He paused, and looked over his shoulder at her. "You know that he's not divorced yet." He remarked, watching her still her movements.

She lifted her head, and frowned. "What's your point?" She asked, her face giving a scolding look.

He turned to face her, and his eyes held a serious note. "It's not…" He began, trailing off when she lowered the scalpel in her hand, and moved around the table.

"It's not what, Sherlock?" She asked, heading him off. She crossed her arms, and her frown deepened.

He searched her face, and took in her stance; her body gave off the vibe of anger and tension. Something was wrong, but he wouldn't deduce it. He gave a nod to her, and turned on his heel, and left her in the lab.

Molly lifted her head, and a confused expression appeared on her face. Slowly, a smile touched her lips, and she lowered her eyes.

He was jealous.

 **~XXX~**

"Sherlock, what is the problem?"

Sherlock stared out of the window. His mind focusing on the events of the morning, and he still couldn't figure out the problem. No, it wasn't a problem. It was…

"Nothing, Watson," He answered, after a moment.

John pursed his lips, and slowly nodded. "Then why have you been staring out the window for the past hour, murmuring something about him not being good enough for her?" He asked, watching his friend closely.

"Because he's not, Watson," Sherlock stated, whirling around, throwing his robe in a circular motion.

John studied his friend, and slowly, his mind started to piece together forming a nearly complete puzzle. Sherlock had not been the same since he came back from Bart's. "Who is Molly seeing?" John asked, knowing only one person could bring this reaction from him.

Sherlock stiffened, and moved to the couch. His face drawn like a child's, as he flopped down, and began to curl up in the fetal position, but not before he muttered Lestrade's name.

John smiled, and moved towards his friend, knowing the reason. "Ah, so Greg finally asked her out, well, I'm not surprised. They have gotten pretty close since the Christmas party last year."

Sherlock rolled over, and his eyes narrowed at his friend. "They are not close, Watson." He argued, and Watson bit his tongue from laughing.

"Oh, then what would you call it?" John asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Sherlock frowned even more, and rolled back over his body tensing up.

"It wouldn't surprise me if, after Greg's divorce is finalized, they become an item." John continued, smiling as he spoke.

Sherlock tightened his position, before rolling off the couch, and stomped passed John and out the door, stopping only to grab his coat, and leave his robe on the floor.

John smiled, as the front door slammed behind his friend, and bowed his head. "Finally,"

 **~XXX~**

He stood inside her apartment, waiting, hoping, and hating the cat that curled up in his lap, seeking comfort. He heard her outside the door, and the lock coming undone before the door opened, and she entered with her head down, and she turned to close and lock the door behind her.

"Toby, I'm home." She called, taking off her coat and scarf, placing them on the coat rack beside the door. "Toby…" She called once more, and stopped when she stepped in the doorway leading to the sitting room.

"Please don't disturb the beast, Molly." Sherlock remarked, slowly moving the cat, gently to the coach as he stood up. "It took forever to get that pest asleep." He added, moving towards her, watching her eyes widen and her mouth opened in shock. "Molly, do close your mouth, it's unbecoming." He instructed as her mouth closed.

"Sherlock, what the devil are you doing here?" She asked, in a demanding tone.

He sighed, and she noticed how nervous he became from her question. "How was your date?" He asked, trying to remain unemotional, but a slight quiver of his tone gave him away.

She smirked, and shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, you know, we had a great time." She answered, as his eyes sparked with anger. "We laughed and had drinks and…Sherlock!" She screeched, as he threw something against the wall in the hallway, barely missing the picture she had carefully put up of her parents.

He rolled his head back, and turned to walk around her. "I hope you'll be very happy, Molly Hooper." He growled out, moving towards the door.

She shook her head, and followed him. "Now hold on just a moment, Sherlock." She began, as he stopped at the door with his hand outstretched towards the doorknob. "What's really going on?" She asked, stepping towards him with only two steps. "Sherlock," She demanded, in a scolding tone.

"You deserve better, Molly." He stated, turning his head to look at her over his shoulder. "You deserve a much smarter man than Lestrade." He added, lowering his eyes.

She smiled, faintly, and shifted on her feet. "Someone like you?" She asked, watching him smirk, before it fell.

"You don't need someone like me." He answered, lowly, his baritone voice strong and full of emotion.

She bowed her head and stepped even closer, raising her hand to touch his arm. "Actually, you've never been more wrong." She corrected, as he turned to face her. "Greg and I are just friends, nothing more. My heart…" She paused, holding his eyes. "Belongs to you."

He swallowed, and closed his eyes. "Thank God," He whispered, before scooping her up in his arms, and crushed his lips on hers for a searing kiss which left them both shaking with passion. "I can't say the words, but you should know…"

She shook her head, and smiled as she placed her fingers on his lips, as he set her down on the floor. "You don't have to say them." She responded, tearfully.

He smiled, and let out a breathless laugh before pulling her into his embrace, content for the first time in days.

"Remind me to thank George later." He remarked, hearing her laugh in his ear as he pulled back and pressed his lips on hers once more.

On second thought, best not give the Inspector a big head. Sherlock thought, jealousy lining the tone in his head.

* * *

 **Please be kind!**

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 **Until Next Time…**


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